


Waiting for Life

by The_busy_bee



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Restaurant, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Explicit rating is for later chapters, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-15
Updated: 2017-07-15
Packaged: 2018-12-01 22:21:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11495919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_busy_bee/pseuds/The_busy_bee
Summary: Yuri Plisetsky was born with a diamond encrusted spoon in his mouth and multiple nannies to tend to his needs.  His father, an older hospitality tycoon, and his young ex-supermodel mother made sure that he never had to lift a finger a day in his life.  His world was paved with opportunities that others could only dream of.  But he always felt like he was waiting...waiting for something more.  His lethargy led him to let down his parents, who swiftly decided they'd teach him a lesson about how hard life could be if he didn't live up to their expectations.  His parents no longer footing the bill, and his lack of experience in work led him to the Blu Bistro.  A small, but popular restaurant down town. He doesn't know what awaits him in the weathered red brick building. All he knows is that whatever is in there has to be better than waiting.





	1. The Blu Bistro

Yuri pulled his phone from the back pocket of his sleek black pants. He glanced at it to check the time as the two story brick building he remembered from his interview began to become larger in front of him. He replaced his phone and turned over his hand to double check the black ink etched into his palm. The semi-permanent reminder confirmed that he was here at the correct time. _2:50 PM_. A little early even.

 

He looked up at the building before him and saw the sign over the entrance. ‘Blu Bistro’ it read, in a soft and elegant script. Simple black lettering on a stark white background against the weathered red brick. He took a deep breath, let it out smoothly, and opened one of the weighted double doors. He found himself back in the large open space. But this time, without his interview nerves occupying his thoughts, he was able to take in his surroundings fully. He noticed in front of him was the dark wood hostess station. To his left was a polished wood bar lined with plush looking black leather stools.  Right beyond the hostess station, he noticed the square tables were already set with ivory table clothes and blue jewel toned napkins.  To his right there was an exposed brick wall with a row of ‘C’ shaped black leather booths with quilted backrests.  

 

“Yuri?” said a female voice. Yuri turned to the sound to see a woman dressed in the restaurant uniform coming out from just beyond the other end of the bar.

“Uh, yeah, that’s me,” He said while straightening out his cobalt dress shirt. The woman walked briskly to greet Yuri with an outstretched hand. Yuri took her soft hand hesitantly and shook it.

“Hi, I’m Milla! Yakov asked me to show you the ropes,” she said as turned around and began to walk back down to the other end bar. She turned around the corner, disappearing as quickly as she appeared.” Come on up,” said called back.  Yuri was practically running to keep up with her pace, and as he turned the corner beyond the bar, he saw a stairwell directly to his left. Milla was bounding up it, taking two stairs at a time. The young man’s short legs would not allow him to follow suit, so he jogged to keep up.

When Yuri reached the second floor of the restaurant, he could see the room was lined with a small row of lockers, and had a smaller office in the far back corner.  There was a couch and mismatched chairs, a small TV, and what appeared to be a bathroom. His eyes finally caught Milla as she was going through a box that had been torn open haphazardly located near the lockers.

 

“Here, put this on,” said the leggy red head as she tossed a clean black apron to the shorter man.  “You get two, so I’d suggest keeping one hanging in your locker in case some _idiot_ spills something on it… or in case that idiot is _you_.”

“Thanks for the tip,” he said with a roll of his eyes.

“Anytime.  Before we go out on the floor, I’ll need to get you a tie. Do you know how to tie one?” Yuri glared at her.

“ _Are you serious?_ ” He seethed. She looked at him expectantly. Finally he gave his head a sharp nod.

“And you’ll need to pull your hair back.  Do you have a hair-tie?”

“No…shit” he said running his hands through his shoulder length platinum locks.

“I have an extra you can borrow for tonight. Make sure to keep your hair out of your face. **No one** likes finding hair in their food,” she said while searching in a different box, finally pulling out a thin black tie. She tossed it over to where Yuri stood, where he fumbled slightly, then caught it. “And cursing back here is fine, but watch your language on the floor. If Yakov hears it you’ll get a write up.  He runs a tight ship.  This place is his life. That," she said pointing to the office, "is his second home." She walked over to a locker and put in the combination.

Yuri thought about how Yakov was during the interview. The balding and stocky man seemed to be firm, and direct.  Where in other interviews that Yuri had had, people seemed to delicately walk around his lack of experience, Yakov brought it front and center.

* * *

 

 

“You have no experience?” He grumbled.

“Ah… no.  This would be my first job, but-“

“I don’t like it,” Yakov interrupted. Yuri looked down.

 _I didn’t want this stupid job anyway._  He thought harshly. _And_ _at least I won’t have to wait to find out I didn’t get this job… like I had to for the others…_

“You better work hard.  Follow instruction. _Be on time_ , and by that I mean be **early**.” Yuri looked up in shock, mouth hanging open.

“Don’t gawk. And don’t _make_ me regret this. If you want it, you’ll start in two weeks,” he held out his hand,” Do we have a deal?” Yuri beamed, and shook the hand before him.

* * *

 

Yuri shook the memory from his mind and wrapped the apron around himself.  The strings wrapped around his slender form three times before being short enough to tie in the back without a ridiculous bow. Milla returned, handing Yuri a small black elastic. He put the elastic in his mouth, and his lithe hands moved expertly through his hair, creating a braid on one side of his head, before gathering all of his hair into a single tail. Milla began pinning her wavey locks off of her face.

 

“Let me give you the rest of the tour before we need to get started for dinner!” She said as she went to turn down the stairs.  He followed close as he began to secure the tie around his neck as he had done countless times before while in a Catholic Prep School.

 

“This, of course, is the dining room,” she gestured while spinning around.

“Never could have guessed that one,” he remarked with a smirk.

“Pipe down shorty, I’m getting to the not so obvious,” she said while walking with Yuri through the tables. “The dining room is separated into sections depending on reservations we’ve received and expectations of walk-ins if we have the room. Your assigned section will be laid out at the hostess station. When you are finally trusted to be on your own without causing too much harm, you’ll be responsible for fewer tables. This is only at first, but the tradeoff is that you will be expected to help the bussers, and hostess seat guests if needed. Each person is responsible for their section from the start of their shift to the end.  You are expected to prep it before dinner starts, and clean it when your last table leaves.  Bussers will help clean in between. Notice I said _help_.

"Bussers," She continued, " have their own speed of doing things that might not work if you want another table seated. You don’t get a table reseated until you clean it from the prior group. You get passed up by the hostess.” Milla stopped walking and Yuri almost bumped into her. She turned around with a grave look on her face. “Now pay attention…because this is real talk right here. _You_ don’t make any real money from just being here. _You_ make it in tips. Bussers, hosts, and kitchen staff… they get it in their hourly rates, which are higher than minimum wage, might I add. If you don’t make it in over the minimum wage, that’s what you get… the minimum. I don’t know about you, but I’ve got bills to pay and that just won’t cut it for me. Fewer tables seated means fewer people to give tips, means less money when you walk out of here.   Get it?”  Yuri shook his head.  “And one more thing on that note… you declare your tips at the end of each night to the hostess.  Every. Last. Cent. You get caught not declaring all of your tips, you are fired. Immediately. Done.” Yuri nodded sharply. Milla smiled, her bubbly personality returning, and pointing to the far corner to a door, “Back there you’ll find linens and cloth napkins as well as vacuums, and cleaning supplies. But let's go to where everything comes together.  The real reason they come. The place where the magic happens,” she winked at Yuri, “The kitchen.”

She led him through a set of double doors that was right beyond the staircase to go upstairs.

“This is the ‘In’ Door.  Unless you want to get knocked out by someone coming in, or break your nose like Michele did, only ever go in this door. Out is on the other side. There is a flow in the kitchen. Break the flow, someone will break your face,” she shrugged nonchalantly.

“Over here-” Milla continued on, but the words just faded in one ear and out the other.  He looked over and saw someone staring right at him.  The first thing he noticed was the intense almond shaped eyes. They were dark brown, like the color of earth after a spring rain.  They were framed with long, black lashes.  His skin was lightly tanned, and smooth with strong, masculine features. His hair was black and thick, cut fashionably longer on top, and with an undercut. The man studied Yuri, making him feel naked under the gaze.  Yuri looked away, but when he looked back, the man was still staring. Yuri scrunched his face in confusion, and the stoic man looked down and continued with his work, but Yuri thought he could see an amused smile play on his lips.  
“Got it?...Yuri...Yuri?” said Milla breaking Yuri out of his daze.

“Uhhh…” He said as his porcelain skin flushed across his cheeks.  Milla looked to where Yuri’s gaze had been moments before as they continued to walk through the kitchen. She smirked.

“ _Ahh…_ " she said, amusement in her tone. " **That’s** Otabek Atlin. Beka by some.” Yuri tried to swallow, but his head was hazy thinking of those eyes.

“Wh-what's his deal?”  He said finally, hoping the shakiness in his voice wasn't as apparent as he felt it was.

“He’s a lifer. He’s always been here, and will always be here,” Milla paused and sighed dramatically.  “...but those _eyes_ right? And trust me… he’s got a great bod too…” she began to trail off. Yuri’s turquoise eyes went wide.

“Why would you think I want to hear that?!” he snapped. Milla ignored him, seeming happily trapped in her own dream world.

”But, sadly, he never seems to want to socialize with the wait staff. I’ve only seen him come out a handful of times with all of us, and even then he just hangs out with JJ and Isabella.  I’ve tried more… persuasive methods…” She began. Yuri looked disgusted.

“You are going to make me puke.”

“But evidently i’m not his type. Or maybe he has a family at home, Or maybe he is just insane...Because how can you not **want** all of _this,_ ” She stated playfully as she ran her hands down her waist, over her hips, and back up again.

“It’s easier than you think… “Yuri mumbled under his breath. Milla playfully shoved his arm.

“Come on, let’s get back to the floor.  Everyone should be arriving for dinner, so I can introduce you around and get you started on training.”  Yuri smiled and nodded as he followed her out the ‘Out’ door.

When they made it back out to the floor, there was a young tanned man standing near a half set table occupied by his cell phone.

 

“Hey Phichit! This is the new kid, Yuri!” Milla called to the young waiter.

“I’m not a _kid…_ ” Yuri grumbled under his breath.

“Hey, nice to meet you,” the young man called back with a bright smile.  Yuri just nodded once in response.

 

Milla began giving him the low-down on his new coworkers while they were setting their set of tables. She told him Phichit was a Thai exchange student from one of the local colleges.  Evidently, he was a vlogger, and social media personality, mostly making posts about tourism, sightseeing, and world fashions.  He was always the life of the party, and was ready with his phone in hand to document the fun.

 

While they were folding napkins two more people walked through the front doors. Milla told him that their names were Emil,and Michele. They were followed shortly by a young woman with long black hair named Sara. Emil was a kind, light brunette waiter.  He came in draped over Michele’s shoulder, trying to calm down the Italian who had just heard about Sara’s date last night, and was obviously _not_ happy about it. Michele and Sara were brother and sister. Michele was the chef with short, medium brown hair. He was only about a year older than Sara, but he acted like he was her father. Michele was uptight, hot-tempered, and overprotective of his younger sister. He seemed clingy, a quality that made Yuri contort his face in disgust. Sara, however was friendly, independent, and easy going. She was the one of the hostesses, and Milla’s best friend. As soon as Sara arrived, she came over to where Yuri and Sara were standing and introduced herself.

“Always befriend the hostess,” she advised him with a wink. “We decide how your set will look and who’s going to get seated in your area.”

“Why do you think I’m so close with you?” Milla said, snaking her arm around Sara’s shoulder and laughing.

The person who Yuri met next was a fair skinned hostess with jet black hair. Her name was Isabella and she wore bright red lipstick in a constantly sweet smile. He couldn't help but notice the 2 carat princess cut diamond that looked heavy on her petite hand as she gestured with it. The shine of the diamond in the light immediately reminded him of part of the life he was running from.  If the ostentatious presentation on her index finger wasn't enough, the fact that every other word was about her fiance let Yuri know she was newly, and happily engaged.  Evidently to the head chef in the kitchen named JJ.

Milla told Yuri that the bussers’ names were Guang Hong, Seung-Gil, and Leo. They were young, and rotated doing kitchen work, and bussing.  They would be in right before dinner for the pre-dinner meeting. Milla took Yuri through setting a table, folding napkins, and other various things they needed to do before guests began to arrive.

“Don’t worry, I have arrived. Dinner is saved,” said a tall man as he pushed the doors wide open.  He had green eyes, and two toned hair. His cobalt shirt had the top unbuttoned, exposing smooth skin.  There was a scattering of groans and eye rolls across the team as they got their tables set for dinner.

“You are almost late, Christophe. I was worried we’d have to suffer through dinner without you,” said Milla affectionately.  Christophe came over to her and took her hand in his and kissed it.

“You know me, I always _come_ last,” he said with a wink to Yuri, who flushed at the abrupt flirting. “And who might this blonde beauty be?”

“Down boy,” joked Sara from the hostess station.

“I mean, I’d love nothing more than to sample this delicate creature Sara-love, but I have tables to set…” Christophe joked.  Milla lightly slapped his arm while Yuri stood to the side looking horrified.

“This is Yuri. He’s new here, so be nice to him!” Milla warned.  Christophe smirked.

“Milla, you wound me. I'd never dream of being anything but nice... so so _nice.._ ” Christophe trailed off, sauntering to the linen closet to get his tables ready. Yuri's head snapped to look at Milla.

"What the fuck was  _that_?!" he questioned, mouth still contorted in a disgusted face.

" _Language._ And that was Christophe.  The Bistro's own notorious flirt. He's harmless," she waved her arms to dismiss it. 

 "How can you say that  _that_ is harmless? Someone needs to-" Yuri began, but was interrupted by the sound of loud clapping to get everyone's attention.

 

"Hey!  Everyone take a seat," barked the source of the clapping.  When Yuri turned his head he saw that it was Yakov standing in the dinning room.  "We've got a lot to cover and little time before dinner! Isa dear," he softend the old man.  "Go get tell JJ to get his boys out here so we can begin the meeting."  Isabella turned and pushed through the doors. Everyone began to gather near the tables closest to Yakov, waiting for the kitchen staff to come join them.  Moments later, Isabella returned pushing a cart with steaming plates on it. Following her were the chefs, kitchen staff, and bussers.  

 

"Now that everyone is here," Yakov barked. "Let's get started!"


	2. Lemons

"Chulanont!" Yakov bellowed. "I swear if you don't put that screen away for the evening I will have you scrubbing the crumbs from between the cushions for the week." Phichit blushed out of embarrassment, but gave a bright smile as he slipped his phone back into his pocket. Christophe chuckled. "Giacometti, you have nothing to laugh about. At least he has the good sense to be embarrassed.  You... You don't even realize!  I don't want any funny business tonight.  I want a nice, clean," Yakov stared directly at Christophe, " _Family friendly_ dinner service.  I take it you have all met our new hire, Yuri?" Everyone from the waitstaff was nodding. "Good, good.  He will be shadowing Milla.  So no ideas about how to utilize him during your service. I don't want to see him doing any of your dirty work, got it? He's here to learn to do the job.  The same job you all are expected to do if you want to keep your job." He looked over to the kitchen staff, "Don't take it easy on him, boys.  Make sure he learns the kitchen rules right the first time so we don't have to re-teach the bad habits out of him. Now, that we are past the new business...We are at hovering around 70% for reservations from 5:30 -9, and around 30% for the rest of open.  I don't expect too much of a crowd for walk-ins, but anything can happen. The weather is nice, people will be walking, so be ready. Okay, that's all I've got. JJ will take you through the specials for tonight."

"Alright, alright!" Said a tall man with black hair, and a stunning smile. His blue-grey eyes shinning. "You are going to love this. We've been cooking up some new additions that we will be adding to the spring menu and we wanted to get a read on how they will do. I've got the return of our Pasta Primavera.  We've decided to use fresh orecchiette this time around. Get that pronunciation right. We've also added some great Porobello mushrooms into the mix.  It's a great vegetarian option, so keep that in mind if they are looking for meat-free alternatives. The next is an all new recipe!  It's grilled chicken pesto pasta salad. This one is seasoned with our house pesto, sun-dried tomatoes, arugula, and toasted pine nuts.  So watch the nut allergies, because no one wants  _that_... _again."_ He said glaring at Emil.

"What?!" He said incredulously, crossing his arms across his chest. "She _asked_ for pesto!  How was I supposed to know that she didn't realize it had _pine nuts_ in it?"

"Either way," he continued, "Make sure to tell them it has pine nuts.  The last spring option is a lemon-breaded pork chop over orzo. It's lightly fried and seasoned with lemon, parsley and garlic, then served up over a bed of orzo, and topped with Parmigiano-Reggiano to add a bit of richness to it. Now for the best part! Everyone come on up and get a taste. If you have any questions, let me know."

Everyone eagerly rose and walked over to the fragrant plates, grabbing forks on the way. They each began to stab portions of already cut meat or pasta. Yuri approached hesitantly.  Finally he decided to pierce into the lemon-breaded pork chop. He examined it cautiously, slid the meat into his mouth and his eyes went wide. He stared at JJ with astonishment. The chef had an arm around his fiance, but noticed the blonde staring. He laughed.

"You like that? That's what we call 'JJ style'!" he said with confidence, holding up his hands in the form of two 'J's. His fiance kissed his cheek proudly. 

"I have never had anything this delicious in my mouth..." he started, pausing to grab a taste of the orzo. 

"Yet..." Said Chris from across the cart with a wink as he put a slice of mushroom in his mouth. Yuri choked on the pasta, being startled by the implications of what Chris was suggesting.

"Hey, Yuri! Smile!" said Phichit who was beside him taking a selfie.

"What?! No, get out of here!" He grumbled trying to hide from the camera as he dislodged the food from his throat.

"Chulanont!" Yelled Yakov. "I warned you. Get that out of here! Everyone settle down! Isa, Sara, we open in 8 minutes. JJ, Otabek, and Michele, take Seung-Gil back to help ready the plates and tickets. Just because it's Monday doesn't mean we take it easy. Leo, and Guang Hong, straighten your selves up and prep the stations.  Leo, by 7 I expect you in the back helping Seung-Gil with the dishes if he needs it. Everyone else, clear the floor until you get a table. And don't clump during the service. Ready? No?  Too bad..." he said as he walked to the doors to unlock them.

Yuri watched from beyond the bar as Yakov turned the latch to allow guests in.  There was a new nervousness developing in the pit of Yuri's stomach that he just couldn't ignore.  He felt an energy as everyone around him rushed to get ready for the evening. Now all that was left was to wait...

* * *

 

First the first time of the night Yuri felt like he could take a breath. Like he needed to take a breath. He just needed to stand still.  Surely it was almost time to leave.  He looked at the clock on the wall.  _7:23 pm_. 

 _HOW?!_ He thought.  _How is it not even 8pm?!_

He audibly groaned, and tried to shake out the growing soreness he felt in his feet.  He noticed the distinct tightness he felt in his shoulders and arms.  They were going to hurt tomorrow. To his amazement, everyone else was buzzing around him.  None of them seemed to be tiring as they carried menus to and fro, or as they delivered drinks or food to hungry customers. Sounds of laughter and the soft ambient music seemed to fill the entire room.  There was a happy energy that Yuri wasn't used to around him.  Milla, who was standing beside him took notice of his fatigue and smiled softly. 

"Hey Yuri," Milla said in a hushed tone. "Table 14 is being really demanding, and I forgot to grab sugar and lemon slices for the lady at table 8.  Go to the kitchen and grab it and bring it to her, will ya.  I'll go take 14 on my own this time.  Go get yourself some water after okay?"

"Lemon and sugar... Lemon and sugar. Table 8. And that one is..."he said unsure while searching the dining room. Milla smiled and pointed to the square table with four older women sitting at it. "Right, yes. Sugar and Lemon," he repeated. She nodded.

"Yes, please," she said with a smile as a rude man at table 14 began snapping at her to gain her attention from across the room. She put on a fake smile, but Yuri could feel her internally screaming as she walked to the table.

 _Sugar. Lemon. 8 with the old lady. I can do this_.  He took a breath and willed his aching feet to move to the 'In' door.  He grabbed a small bowl and filled it with the thinly sliced lemons from the drink area.  _Now where is that sugar..._ Yuri looked up on the top shelf and saw a what he was looking for.  _Well... fuck._  He thought cursing his genetics.

Yuri stretched up, fingertips barely grazing the bottom of the shelf.

"Come on," he whispered to the box that was just out of his reach.  He stood on his tip toes and he could feel the box's edge inching little by little more into his reach, teasing him. "Listen you.. stupid... fuck...you get over here and get your sweet ass... to table 8." He growled in aggravation, dropped down so his feet were flat, and took a step back, bumping into something that felt like a warm wall. He jumped forward and quickly turned to the figure that had appeared behind him.  He was met with warm brown eyes.  _Brown eyes._  The man had an amused smile playing on his lips. He raised an eyebrow at Yuri. Yuri felt the warmth creep up his neck and across his cheeks, realizing the man had to have heard him berating the box. The man gave a quick scratch to his head, stepped past Yuri, and reached up to with ease to bring the box down to the young man. He held it out expectantly.  Yuri stood, frozen for a moment, before reaching in and grabbing a large handful of small white packets.  The tan man chuckled and reached to take majority of the sugar back from the petite man.  Their fingers brushed and Yuri could feel the roughness of fingers that must have seen hard work. The subtle blush was now darkening up his neck. Otabek replaced the box and turned to head back to the kitchen.  Yuri looked at the few packets in his hand, and then back up to the box

"N-n-no, I need sugar and lemons for table 8," he finally mustered up. Otabek looked over his shoulder and smiled warmly as he turned around to face the blonde.

"Yes, but table 8 doesn't need _diabetes_ ," he chuckled at his own joke. Yuri could feel his pulse quicken just at the sound. His voice was low and even, yet soft. He hadn't expected it from the intense man. "It's for tea or coffee, right?" Yuri nodded, not trusting his own voice. "For how many people?"

"One. One old lady with her tea..." he said trying to seem nonchalant. The warm brown eyes seemed to see right through the facade as he angled his head just slightly toward the smaller man as he inched forward, just barely entering Yuri's personal space. 

"If you just hand them 20 packets of sugar, they will leave them on the table.  Or they will get wet, and ruined. If the table has any kids or teens, rest assured the sugar will end up either torn open all over the floor, or as a thin top layer to your salt shakers. They will make a bigger mess for you to clean at the end of the night. Milla will kill you if you keep her here longer than needed.  Trust me on this," he paused for a beat, "what you have is enough."  Otabek looked at the bowl with lemons, and knitted his eyebrows together in concern. "Those the lemons for tea?"

"Ah... yeah. Why?" he said uncertain of the problem. The man shook his head slowly. "What's wrong with them?" Yuri asked defensively.

"Those are a garnish," he said, matter-of-factly. Yuri crossed his arms across his chest and shrugged, as if to say _so?_  "It's not enough juice," Otabek began again, to clarify. "They'd have to just take the whole lot into their hand and squeeze. Too much work and mess for a simple cup of tea. Come on, follow me," He said moving further into the kitchen. Yuri dumped out the lemons, and grabbed his sugar.  The tan man had disappeared. Yuri looked around confused when the man reappeared popping out of one of the large wall freezers, holding something.  He held the small yellow fruit up for Yuri to see between his thumb and forefinger, and brought it over to a sink. He flipped the water on, and began scrubbing the waxy surface of the lemon. 

"Why are you washing a lemon?" Yuri asked.

"If it goes from here," he nodded his head to the kitchen, "to there," he gestured to the dining room, "it needs to be cleaned. She may just want the juice, or she may decide that she wants to stick it all in her tea." He shrugged. Yuri nodded.  Otabek shook the excess water from his hands and the lemon into the sink. "The knives for the waitstaff are over here," he said while he walked over to a large metal topped island between the actual kitchen and the drink station.  He opened a small drawer and pulled out a sharp chefs knife with a large black handle, and a small plastic cutting board. He placed the lemon on the board and began expertly slicing the fruit.  Yuri stood in awe of those rough, tan hands as the man trimmed the ends, and split the fruit in half over and over until all that was left were identical wedges of the fruit. The strong smell of fresh citrus filled the air.  Yuri gently bit his lower lip, getting caught up in thoughts of what  _else_ those hands could do. When the older man looked up the chocolate orbs fixated on the pink lips.  He leaned forward slightly on the metal surface. His eyebrows raised and a smirk played on his lips.

"Hey Bek, JJ says we are getting backed up. Can you-" said Michele, quickly coming into the room. His eyes traveled from Otabek, to Yuri, and back again. "Uhhh... "

"Yeah, I'm coming," he said as he pushed off the counter slowly until he was standing upright. The man seemed unfazed. "Let me just clean this up." Michele gave an unsure thumbs up and ran back to the kitchen.

"You go, I've got this," said Yuri with wide eyes as he realized how this must seem to an onlooker. 

"You sure? I mean, you don't have to clean up-"

"I can handle it," he said defenses coming back up and a furrow settling on his brow.  He crossed his arms across his chest when the man made no sign of leaving. "I think I can figure out how to clean up a knife and a few peels," he said with annoyance in his tone. The lingering blush only just beginning to fade.  _Just leave_. Otabek shrugged his shoulders, and his smirk fell. He gave a nod, and began to walk out.

"Hey!" Yuri called after him.  He turned his head over his shoulder to look at the small blonde, his face unreadable to Yuri. "Th-thanks. For the lemon... and the sugar," he offered, the sharpness of his tone earlier softened. The man returned a soft smile, and a nod before walking back to the kitchen and out of view.  _That smile._ Yuri said, unaware that he was biting his lip for a moment. He shook his head, gathered his lemons into his bowl, picked up the few packets of sugar, and heading back out to the floor.  _Table 8 here I come._

* * *

 

 

 The night air was cool against Yuri's skin.  It was a quick 15 minute walk from the restaurant to his high rise, but with the way his feet were aching, it felt like hours before he finally reached the security entrance.  He typed in the key code into the pad on the door and was quickly granted access with a high pitched beep. He took the elevator to the 10th floor as he fished his keys out of his pocket.  Soon he was walking through his apartment door, being sure to lock it behind him. He looked at the place before him and his heart sank.  The room was fully furnished with modern couches, sleek chairs, and had beautiful floor to ceiling windows that gave him a great view of the city, but it was far from being 'Home'.  He kicked off his shoes over to the boxes that still had to be unpacked. 

_Later... I'll get to it later._

He untucked and unbuttoned his dress shirt as he walked back to his bedroom. Too tired to turn on the light, he threw his shirt over the chair, letting the brisk air send a shiver over his body. The lights of the city coming in through more of the floor to ceiling windows illuminated his gently muscled body. He unbuttoned his pants and let them fall in a mass on the floor. He undid his hair, putting the hair tie on his wrist as he took on the braid on the side of his head. In nothing but his designer boxer briefs, Yuri flopped on the queen size bed face first with an exhausted thud. He groaned as he forced himself to roll over onto his back. While his body ached, his mind raced. His head felt like all of the changes in his life recently were going to make his head explode until a strange thought focused him. 

_Brown eyes._

He closed his own eyes as he tried to imagine them again. A smile spread warmth across Yuri's body as he relaxed into the mattress as thoughts of Otabek came to mind. The scent of lemons filled his memory. He was asleep within minutes, falling into a more sound sleep than he had in weeks. 


End file.
